


Simply Meant to Be

by thepopeisdope



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Human, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Omega Dean, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Punk Castiel, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 21:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4408859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepopeisdope/pseuds/thepopeisdope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Dean Winchester presented as an omega was the worst day of his life.</p><p>John and Mary Winchester had both been alphas, as had both of their fathers in turn. Coincidentally, their mothers had both been betas. In fact, it had been generations since an omega had been born in either side of the family.</p><p>It figures that the first one would be Dean. That’s just how his luck tends to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The day Dean Winchester presented as an omega was the worst day of his life.

John and Mary Winchester had both been alphas, as had both of their fathers in turn. Coincidentally, their mothers had both been betas. In fact, it had been generations since an omega had been born in either side of the family.

It figures that the first one would be Dean. That’s just how his luck tends to go.

After the death of his wife over a decade previously, John did the best he could raising two sons on his own—but even he had his limits. The fact of the matter was he didn’t know how to care for an omega, didn’t know anything about them beyond what he had been taught in high school health class, once upon a time.

So he did the most logical thing he could: sent Dean to live with his lifelong friend Bobby Singer. Bobby’s wife Ellen was an omega, as was his step-daughter. They could provide Dean more support than John ever could.

It was a decision made out of love and dedication—not that Dean ever saw it that way. No, Dean saw it as abandonment. Dean believed his father cast him away out of disappointment, and although he wanted to hate his father for it, for taking him away from Sammy like that, he could only blame himself.

He was _broken_.

Things aren’t bad at Bobby and Ellen’s, though. They treat Dean like one of their own, and they don’t judge him for being a male omega, like so much of society does. Ellen’s daughter Jo is great to be around, too, even if she is a couple years younger than Dean. Jo had presented at the young age of twelve, whereas Dean had been a late bloomer and didn’t present until he was seventeen. Jo knows what it’s like.

And then there’s _Castiel_.

Castiel Novak, Bobby’s orphaned nephew.

Castiel Novak, the hot-as-fuck _alpha_ living directly across the hall from Dean.

Cas is in the same year as Dean in school, making them both seniors, but Cas is several months older. At first Dean had been intimidated by him, both because of his _delicious_ alpha scent that never fails to set Dean on edge, and the fact that he fancies himself a punk.

Dean has never seen Cas wear anything other than black skinny jeans and a black, V-neck t-shirt, with the occasional black beanie to top off the look. His eyes, so goddamn blue, stand in stark contrast to the ensemble, always giving Dean the impression that Cas is staring directly into his freaking _soul_.

The more time they spent together, though, the more Dean realized that it’s all a show. Sure, Cas isn’t a fan of rules and likes to make a point of rebelling every once in a while, but beneath that, he’s sweet and caring.

Not that Dean would ever use those words to his face.

Dean and Cas interact only minimally, crossing paths occasionally when doing chores around the house or, less commonly, in the halls at their high school. They’re friendly with one another, but they aren’t friends.

It happens during Christmas break.

Bobby, Ellen, and Jo went to spend the holiday with Ellen’s sister in Oregon, and since neither Dean nor Cas have any blood ties to Ellen’s family, they were trusted to hold the fort in Sioux Falls.

Several days before Christmas, John calls. Dean is sitting in the living room with a Vonnegut book when his cellphone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, son.”

Dean’s throat closes up. He clears it forcefully and chokes out a “Hey, Dad,” in return.

“It’s been a while since we talked last,” John says. “How’ve you been?”

Of course, Cas chooses that exact moment to emerge from wherever it is he’s been hiding all morning. He looks at Dean curiously for a moment before moving to sit on the opposite end of the couch, his feet tucked up under him.

Dean studiously avoids his gaze.

“I’m fine,” he tells John. “How’s Sammy?”

He can practically hear John smile over the line. “Sam’s good. That’s part of why I called, actually.”

Dean sits up a bit straighter. He can feel Cas’s eyes boring into the side of his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” John takes a deep breath, then says, “Sam presented today. He’s an alpha.”

“That’s… great, Dad.” Dean squeezes his eyes shut. “Really.”

They talk for a few more minutes before hanging up. John reminds Dean that he is still welcome to come visit for the holiday, but Dean declines, just as he did every time his dad asked before. When the call ends, Dean just sits with his head in his hands.

He’s not surprised that Sam presented alpha—hell, he’s _glad_ for the kid. It’s good to know his brother won’t have to go through the same struggles he himself did, won’t have to worry about being accepted by family and friends and society as a whole.

But at the same time, it hurts like hell. John sounded so fucking _proud_ of Sam, proud in a way he’d never been of Dean.

Sam won’t have to be sent away from home.

A hand touches Dean’s shoulder and he startles, instantly jerking away and pressing himself back against the arm of the couch.

Cas’s wide blue eyes look entirely worried for Dean’s comfort. His hand remains suspended in midair for a moment before slowly being retracted and formed into a fist against his own thigh.

“Are you alright?”

Dean just shakes his head and looks away.

“Dean?”

“My brother presented,” Dean says, still not looking at Cas. “Alpha.”

As expected, Cas doesn’t understand. “Okay…”

Dean shrugs, trying desperately not to lose his cool. “I was sent away because I presented omega. Because I was born wrong. Sam’s everything that I should have been for my dad.”

_Un_ expectedly, Cas growls, a deep, reverberating sound that makes Dean’s hair stand on end. In a blink, Cas moves across the couch and grabs Dean by his chin, forcing his head up to look at him. His eyes burn with blue fire, hints of alpha red already threading in.

_Oh shit_.

“How could you possibly think that?” Cas thunders, oblivious to what is happening. “How could you _ever_ think that you are _wrong_? That you are anything besides _perfect_?”

“Cas…”

“You are not worthless, Dean Winchester,” Cas continues, apparently not finished with his tirade. “If your father cannot see your value, that is _his_ problem, not yours.”

“Cas, I think you just triggered my heat.”

_That_ gets his attention.

Cas’s fingers slacken on Dean’s jaw, but neither cared enough to notice.

“I… What?”

Dean can feel the slick already seeping between his legs, and his dick has been steadily hardening since the moment Cas’s bare skin touched his own.

He can see the moment Cas smells his heat—his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate to the point that his irises are only a thin ring around the edge, the blue almost completely overtaken by red.

Cas raises his other hand to thread through Dean’s hair, making him groan softly. Cas leans their foreheads together and chuckles under his breath. “Have we really known each other this long and not touched once?”

Dean, for his part, only sighs in relief. He’s glad Cas knows what’s going on, because with as many hormones as he’s got pumping through his body right now, he doesn’t think he would have the brain capacity required to explain a true mate match.

Fucking _true mates_. It’s happening to him and Dean _still_ has a hard time believing it.

When Cas’s lips touch his for the first time, his fingers tightening in Dean’s hair, Dean thinks his brain actually short circuits.

Before Dean can fully comprehend what is happening, he finds himself flipped onto his stomach and laid out, Cas’s body a warm line along his own. Cas grinds his erection into the cleft of Dean’s ass while simultaneously nosing along his hairline and pressing tender kisses to his neck. Dean pushes back against him, whining desperately. He needs _more_.

“Cas,” he somehow manages to pant, “Bedroom.”

He doesn’t think Bobby and Ellen would be too pleased with them for fucking on their couch.

Thankfully Cas seems to agree—even if he clearly isn’t happy about it. He growls again and flips Dean back over, wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, and lifts him like it’s nothing to carry him upstairs.

If anything, the show of strength only serves to turn Dean on more. Honestly, he hadn’t thought it possible.

He hooks his ankles together behind Cas’s back and instantly locks their lips together. He can’t get over how _good_ Cas tastes, clean and fresh, like apples and rain, just like he smells. He licks further into Cas’s mouth, intent on savoring as much of that flavor as he can.

Cas stumbles and moans, almost losing his footing on the stairs, which ends with Dean’s back pressed against the wall. The position aligns their cocks almost perfectly and Dean writhes, searching for more pressure.

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t stop that, I’m not going to make it to the bedroom.”

Dean slows while he thinks this over. Images of Cas fucking him against the stairs, against the wall, flood his mind, unbidden but not unwelcome.

But, tempting though it is to push his alpha to the breaking point here and now, a bed would undeniably be better for their first knotting.

The thought sends a thrill down his spine.

In the time it takes him to reach this conclusion, though, Cas has already reached his room, kicking the door open and then closed behind them. He falls onto bed with Dean pinned beneath him, and from there, everything is all-systems-go again.

Their clothes vanish in a blur, but before Dean can beg for Cas’s knot like the wanton omega that he is, Cas’s plump, pink lips wrap around the head of his dripping cock, tonguing the slit and sucking gently. Those oh-so-blue eyes stare up at him with open longing and adoration as he sinks down further.

That’s all it takes for Dean to come harder than ever before, shooting down his alpha’s throat. He shouts something that vaguely resembles Cas’s name, his fingers fisted in that silky, brown hair.

“So beautiful,” Cas whispers, pressing a kiss to Dean’s navel. “Will you present for me, beloved?”

Dean is on his stomach with his ass in the air before Cas has even finished speaking.

Cas runs a hand over the globe of Dean’s ass reverently, murmuring soft encouragements under his breath. He slips a finger in past Dean’s rim easily, meeting no resistance whatsoever. He pumps the finger in and out for a moment, then adds a second and after that a third, before being satisfied and pulling out.

When Dean feels the blunt head of Cas’s cock pressing against his hole, deciding he’s had enough teasing, rocks backward and impales himself on Cas. Every inch burns and stretches, and Dean loves every second of it.

Cas gasps and grabs at Dean’s hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, forcing him to stop. Cas breathes heavily through his nose for a moment before pushing the rest of the way in, his hips flush with the backs of Dean’s thighs.

Dean squirms. His heat is flaring back up, itching under his skin. “Cas, _fuck me_.”

Cas does just that.

He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, eliciting a moan from each of them. Cas sets a brutal pace, pounding into Dean and hitting his prostate every other stroke, but all the while he touches Dean tenderly, calling him _beautiful_ and _beloved_ and _mine_.

He says the last one as his rhythm begins to falter, and when Dean gasps “Yours,” in response, it pushes Cas over the edge. His hips come to a stop and his knot swells within Dean, locking them together. Just as the sensation of Cas’s come flooding him sends Dean into a second orgasm, even more pleasurable than the last, Cas’s teeth lock onto the juncture of Dean’s neck and shoulder, solidifying their mating.

With his heat finally (temporarily) slaked, Dean relaxes into the bed, burying his face in Cas’s pillow. He is only vaguely aware of Cas tilting them both on their sides and spooning him, his arms wrapped around Dean’s torso and his knot holding them together.

“Bobby’s gonna be pissed,” Dean mumbles. He feels drunk on endorphins and Cas’s scent, which the entire room is saturated in.

Cas runs a hand down his side soothingly. “Why would he be?” he says. “You’re actually part of his family now, and not just in name.”

Dean smiles at the thought. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

~

When Bobby and Ellen come home the following week, they’re pissed. Not because of the mating, no—they’re pissed because the whole house reeks of sex.

But, just as Cas predicted, Bobby is pleased to call Dean family.

They get married in February, a week and a half after Dean’s eighteenth birthday. John and Sam come into town for the occasion, and although Dean is still worried about what his father thinks, John surprises him by shaking Cas’s hand, grinning like a fool.

 Then he gives Dean a bear hug, whispering into his ear, “I’m proud of you, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr!  
> [ http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com ](http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com)
> 
> Have a prompt you want to see? Message me!


	2. Castiel's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested on tumblr, here is Simply Meant to Be from Cas's perspective! How it ended up being a thousand words longer than the first chapter, the world may never know.
> 
> EDIT 8/15: Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. Fixed a grammatical error a kind soul pointed out.

A week before his eighteenth birthday, Castiel Novak’s life was turned on its head.

Not because of the beginning of his senior year of high school, nor because of his assignment to detention by Principal Naomi on the second day of school. No, those things were far too commonplace to trip Castiel up.

It’s the omega who moved in across the hall from him.

_Dean Winchester._

Castiel had been living with his uncle Bobby since he was fourteen, when his parents, James and Amelia Novak, were killed in a car accident. Bobby was his mother’s elder brother, and while his father’s sister Anna had been the one who wanted to take him in, Bobby fought tooth and nail to get his way. Castiel had already presented as an alpha by then, so the court ruled that alpha Bobby Singer was a better caretaker than beta Anna Milton nee Novak.

And things were good with Bobby since then, Castiel thought. Ellen was a kind and fair motherly figure, and in Jo he had the little sister he’d always wanted. They let him grow into his own person and get over the deaths of his parents in however he saw fit (on the single condition that he avoided recreational drug use which, really, was fair). When his wardrobe slowly morphed away from the sweater vests and khakis of a church-going Christian boy and became little more than an array of tight black pants and t-shirts, Ellen still kissed his forehead every night before bed and Bobby still gripped his shoulder—or, on the rare occasion, _hugged_ him—and called him ‘son’.”

They didn’t care when he started dressing like he did, and they didn’t care that he seemed to have trouble with all authority figures aside from themselves.

Bobby and Ellen were perfect like that.

So perfect, in fact, that they agreed to take in _Dean_.

The night before Dean arrives, Bobby sits Castiel down at the kitchen table and tells him everything. He tells him about Dean’s mother, Mary, and about Dean’s younger brother, Sam. He tells him about his father, John, who is an old friend of Bobby’s. He talks about how disjointed John has been since the loss of his mate—his _true_ mate, hard though it is to believe—and about how lost his friend is now that his son is an omega.

“Bit of a late bloomer, Dean, as he’s about your age. He’ll be eighteen here in a couple a’ months, but we’re takin’ him anyways because the boy knows nothing about his secondary gender, and John thinks Ellen and Jo are the best people to help him with that.”

Castiel frowns. He wants to know more, to know why any omega would just be passed off as _unwanted_ , but he restrains himself. It isn’t his place to know.

Dean arrives just after noon the next day. Castiel had been in his room listening to music and doing his homework, so he’d missed Bobby’s departure to pick him up from the airport and subsequent return. Castiel only knows he’s there when Bobby brings him upstairs and that _scent_ creeps under his door, like cinnamon and cherries.

Castiel is crossing the room and opening the door before he can think better of it.

Bobby and Dean are far closer to Castiel’s bedroom door than he anticipated, and he leans back in surprise. Shit. Why did he have to introduce himself _like this_? He clears his throat and chokes out a strangled, “Hello.”

Bobby looks far too amused, and Castiel sends him a glare. His ire is short-lived, though, because his eyes are instantly drawn to the goddamn _Adonis_ at Bobby’s side. He has eyes the color of peridot, flecked even now with omega gold, and a smattering of freckles cover his beautiful skin.

In short, Dean Winchester is a perfect specimen.

And Castiel wants to _touch_ and to _taste_ and to _take_. He wants to make Dean _his_.

A faint blush colors Dean’s cheeks as he stares back at Castiel, and _Lord_ , does that blush make his freckles stand out even more.

“Dean, I think I told you about my nephew, Castiel?” Bobby says, breaking their impromptu staring contest. “Dean, this is Castiel, Castiel, this is Dean.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Dean.”

“Likewise, Castiel.”

Normally when meeting someone, this is the point at which you would shake hands. Castiel can see Dean’s hand twitching in uncertainty and, usually, Castiel would jump at the chance to have even a short handshake with this beautiful boy—but then he remembers his talk with Bobby.

Dean is new to being an omega, and knows nothing about what that really means for him.

It probably isn’t a good idea to bombard him with any additional alpha pheromones—especially a horny young alpha about to hit his rut. His scent will be hard enough for Dean to deal with.

So instead of shaking Dean’s hand, Castiel skirts around both he and Bobby in the direction of the stairs.

“And where are you going so fast, boy?” Bobby calls after him.

Castiel shrugs, but doesn’t slow his descent on the stairs. “Just getting lunch, Bobby, not being a delinquent,” he says back. “Don’t get your heartrate up.”

He hears Bobby chuckle and say something to Dean, but by then he is in the kitchen throwing a sandwich together and can’t hear anything more. He hasn’t eaten yet today so he really is starving, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like he just sorely damaged his chances at even friendship with Dean.

~

Castiel’s prediction proves true over the next few months—he and Dean are friendly toward one another, but by no means are they friends. At school, they pass each other in the halls and trade nothing more than curt nods and half smiles—not that Castiel can complain about this particular exchange, though, considering it never fails to make Dean blush at least a little bit.

Dean also knows that Castiel regularly receives detention, and in fact, the first time Dean ever saw the detention room, while touring the school his first day, Castiel was one of three occupants. Castiel had been slightly embarrassed by the way Dean stared at him, like he was trying to understand why he was there, but he played it off with a lazy grin and a, “Hello, Dean.” Dean had blushed harder than usual and replied with a hasty, “Hey, Cas,” then all but fled from the room.

It happens during Christmas break.

Dean and Castiel are alone in the house, since Ellen, Bobby, and Jo went to spend Christmas in Oregon with a branch of Ellen’s family. Bobby, of course, had been extremely apologetic when he told Castiel, promising that he would find a way to make it up to him and Dean when they returned—as long as they managed not to burn the house down, that is.

Castiel had waved him off, saying that they would make it through the week and a half alone just fine, but in reality, it caused him to panic.

He and Dean. Alone in the house. For eleven days.

Castiel has been pining over the omega since he arrived in Sioux Falls—not that he would ever do anything to imply as much, though. Dean’s scent alone was enough to make Castiel half hard most of the time, and since they met Castiel has not touched himself once without the image of peridot eyes and freckles egging him on.

Castiel won’t act because Dean deserves so much more than that. Dean is sweet and all-around adorable, and, as Castiel reminds himself daily, he came to Sioux Falls to have better support as an omega than he could receive at home, not to be courted by Castiel.

He manages to avoid Dean for the majority of the first day and well into the second by working through his assigned reading for his return to school, but even with a book in his hands, he struggles to take his mind off Dean. As such, the moment his book is finished he sets off through the house in search of him, if not to speak to him but to casually check in and see what he’s doing.

“Hey, Dad.”

Castiel hesitates before following the sound of Dean’s voice into the living room. He is speaking to his father? Castiel isn’t sure he’s ever overheard one of these rare phone calls, even if he has heard reference of them.

It won’t hurt to go sit in the living room right now, right? Surely not. And if Dean asks, he can say that he could scent his distress and wanted to see what was wrong—which, really, isn’t a lie. Distress is rolling off of Dean in _waves_ , and it’s making Castiel’s alpha hindbrain twitchy.

Dean glances up at him as he moves to sit on the end of the couch, but he immediately looks back away, fixing his gaze on the threadbare arm of the couch instead.

Dean clenches his jaw. “I’m fine,” he says into the phone, answering some unheard question. “How’s Sammy?” After a beat, Dean sits up straighter, his fingers clutching the cellphone to his ear a bit harder. “Oh?”

Whatever John says must not be great, because Dean’s face crumples and the distress in his scent spikes. “That’s… great, Dad,” he says with false brightness. He squeezes his eyes shut and adds, “Really.”

Dean relaxes infinitesimally during the remainder of the call, but his scent never clears back up. It makes Cas’s heart ache. This perfect, beautiful boy should never have any reason to be as upset as he is. Castiel burns to know what must have happened to get this reaction out of Dean.

Castiel is too caught up in his own thoughts to register any more of the words that leave Dean’s mouth, so he is almost surprised when Dean ends the call and discards his phone. He is not, however, surprised when Dean lets his head fall into his hands in grief. If his scent is anything to go by, it’s a miracle he made it this long before closing in on himself.

Cautiously, oh so cautiously, Castiel reaches out a hand to touch Dean’s shoulder. Dean jerks away with wide, frightened eyes, and Castiel immediately regrets his action—he _knows_ Dean is too fragile to handle him, and he _knows_ that they’re hardly even friends. He has no right to touch Dean like that.

Dean continues to stare at him, at the hand suspended between them, until Castiel fists it against his own thigh.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

He does what he can do, then, and asks, “Are you alright?”

Dean only shakes his head and looks away.

“Dean?”

Dean exhales sharply. “My brother presented. Alpha.”

Castiel frowns. Shouldn’t Dean see that as a good thing? He is obviously not comfortable with himself as an omega, so would he really with that same fate on his brother? “Okay…” he hedges, hoping to encourage Dean to elaborate.

Dean’s distress spikes again, but he shrugs as if nothing is wrong. “I was sent away because I presented omega,” he says. “Because I was born wrong. Sam’s everything that I should have been for my dad.”

Castiel is unable to stop the growl that claws its way out of his chest. His vision goes red with anger, and before he knows what he’s doing, he moves across the couch and latches a hand onto Dean’s chin, forcing those peridot eyes up to meet his own.

“How could you possibly think that?” Castiel shouts. Dean’s eyes are wide with fear, and part of Castiel knows he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t abandon his plan to give Dean his space, but he is too furious to think clearly right now. He needs his omega to _understand_. “How could you _ever_ think that you are _wrong_? That you are anything besides _perfect_?”

“Cas…”

Castiel ignores him. “You are not worthless, Dean Winchester. If your father cannot see your value, that is _his_ problem, not yours.”

“Cas, I think you just triggered my heat.”

Castiel freezes in place, his fingers loosening in their hold on Dean’s jaw.

“I… What?” he manages, unintelligently.

Before he can form a competent thought, the scent of _ambrosia_ hits Castiel’s nostrils. It smells like Dean, like cinnamon and cherries, but it also smells like so much _more_.

It smells like an omega in heat.

Well, shit. That certainly explains a lot.

No longer fearing for Dean’s reaction, Castiel weaves his fingers into his hair and rests their foreheads together. He cannot help but laugh at the absurdity of it. “Have we really known each other this long and not touched once?” he asks incredulously. Even if he knows that’s the result of choices he himself made, it’s mind boggling to know just how thoroughly he succeeded.

 _True mates_. Both Castiel’s and Dean’s parents had been true mates as well, but them too? True mates are extremely rare; the odds are astronomical.

With no more reason to hold back, Castiel leans in and presses a tender kiss to Dean’s lips, and it’s more perfect than he could have ever imagined.

Then it’s like the dam has broken, and Castiel is quick to flip Dean onto his stomach and press him into the couch. Dean’s body is warm and pliant beneath Castiel’s, and Castiel _loves_ it. He loves the way Dean’s firm ass feels against his aching dick. He loves the taste of Dean’s skin under his lips, the stronger tang of his scent over his pulse point and around his neck. He loves Dean’s desperate whine as he writhes and searches for more pressure, for more of Castiel.

He loves _Dean_.

“Cas,” Dean gasps, “Bedroom.”

Which, actually, might not be a terrible idea. Castiel may not have ever knotted before, but he knows the mechanics enough to know that his uncle’s worn couch probably isn’t the best place to claim his new mate.

Plus, Bobby and Ellen would be pissed when they found out.

But that doesn’t mean he’s too happy about the idea of stopping his rutting against Dean’s backside.

He flips Dean over and picks him up by his waist, growling slightly, and is immensely pleased then Dean gets with the program and wraps his legs around his torso. The tongue that immediately thrusts into his mouth is admittedly quite distracting, but Castiel isn’t about to complain.

Castiel moans when Dean suddenly redoubles his efforts, seemingly mapping every inch of his mouth with his tongue. He trips over his own feet, almost causing them both to tumble down the flight of stairs he has managed to get most of the way up, but he saves it by pinning Dean between his body and the wall, allowing his balance to return.

But, of course, being pressed against a wall gives Dean all sorts of new ideas, and it doesn’t take long before he begins to squirm, creating more delicious friction between their jean-clad cocks, already perfectly aligned.

And as much as Castiel loves it, would love to just take Dean here, they had a _destination_ , for fuck’s sake. “Dean,” he somehow manages to say, “I swear to god, if you don’t stop that, I’m not going to make it to the bedroom.”

A new look comes into Dean’s dilated, lust-filled eyes, and Castiel would laugh if he weren’t trying so hard to restrain himself. Dean’s actually _considering it_. Dean Winchester, the boy who blushes when they so much as walk past one another at school, wants Castiel to _fuck him against the wall_.

Castiel can hardly believe this is really happening.

How he makes it to the bedroom will forever remain a mystery, but when he has Dean pinned beneath him against his bed, he finds it hard to care much about anything else. The removal of their clothes occurs in an equally mysterious fashion, but again, Castiel isn’t complaining.

Dean’s cock is hard and dripping against his stomach, and the sight makes Castiel’s mouth water. He leans forward without hesitation and takes it into his mouth, licking and sucking at it as best he can. He peers up at Dean to find the omega breathing hard, jaw slack and eyes clouded over with pleasure. He looks so perfect Castiel can hardly stand it.

Then Dean is coming down his throat, crying out and fisting his hands in Castiel’s hair. Castiel swallows it all, basking in the sweet flavor of his omega.

Castiel pulls off with a lewd _pop_. “So beautiful,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to Dean’s navel. He sits up and says, “Will you present for me, beloved?” The endearment slips out unintentionally, but at this point, he hardly thinks it matters.

Dean has his ass in the air before Castiel has even finished speaking.

The sight before him is so stunning that Castiel has to wrap a hand around the base of his dick to keep from coming right then and there. He reverently slides a hand over Dean’s soft skin, marveling at the fact that he has this opportunity at all. He whispers soft encouragements under his breath as he slides a finger in past Dean’s rim, already open and dripping with slick. He moves the digit in and out a bit before adding a second, which he scissors slightly. A third finger is added mere moments later, and it is only after that that Castiel is satisfied with the natural preparation of Dean’s body—he would hate to hurt him on his first time, after all.

Castiel removes his fingers from Dean’s hole and positions his cock at the entrance instead, but before he can press forward, Dean rocks backward and does it for him. Castiel gasps and grabs at Dean’s hips to force him to stop, because if he doesn’t, Castiel isn’t going to last much longer. He steadies himself before pushing the rest of the way in and bottoming out.

Dean writhes around his dick. “Cas, _fuck me_ ,” he hisses.

And how could Castiel deny him that? Castiel couldn’t deny Dean anything, even if he tried.

Castiel pulls back until his cock is only barely in Dean before slamming back in, making them both moan. He sets a hard pace, pounding into Dean and making him gasp and curse and moan. He touches every inch of Dean’s skin he can reach from the position they are in, loving the way his _beautiful_ Dean, his _beloved_ Dean, his Dean squirms and pants Castiel’s name.

 _His_ _Dean_.

Castiel’s hips are already stuttering in their movements, but when Dean suddenly gasps, “Yours,” he loses it. His movements stop altogether as his knot swells into place within Dean and he hits his climax, coming long and hard within his omega. Dean cries out again as another orgasm sweeps through him, and Castiel sinks his teeth into the fleshy juncture between Dean’s neck and shoulder.

Dean’s body goes lax and he sinks his face into Castiel’s pillow. Castiel smiles at the sight, and tips them both onto their sides to better relax around his knot. He wraps his arms around his mate’s body and noses lightly at the fresh mating bite.

 _Mates_.

Dean shifts slightly against Castiel. “Bobby’s gonna be pissed,” he mumbles, his words dampened by the pillow.

Castiel frowns and runs a hand down his mate’s side. “Why would he be? You’re actually a part of his family now, and not just in name.”

He can hear the smile in Dean’s voice when he replies. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

~

Telling Bobby and Ellen when they return home the following weekend is awkward to say the least, but it still goes fairly well—even if they’re pissed that the house reeks of sex.

Bobby pulls Castiel aside later and hugs him. “I knew you two idjits were mates the moment you met,” he says gruffly.

Castiel pulls back to look him in the eye, frowning. “How?”

Bobby shrugs. “I could see it in your eyes, both of you. And I could see how hard you tried not to touch him. You’re not as tall, dark, and mysterious as you like to think, son.”

Castiel has nothing to say to that, so he gives his uncle another hug. “Thanks, Bobby.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr!  
> [ http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com ](http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com)
> 
> Have a prompt you want to see? Message me!


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